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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28552647">Sunrise Over Wutai</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bouncymouse/pseuds/bouncymouse'>bouncymouse</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020), Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff, Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:14:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,726</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28552647</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bouncymouse/pseuds/bouncymouse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A chance encounter over tea leads to romance...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tifa Lockhart/Rude</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sunrise Over Wutai</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/SultryMakoto/gifts">SultryMakoto</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Trying my hand at something a little different...</p><p>A little something for the RudTi fan club.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tifa sits in the teahouse, staring into her china cup. Smoke curls slowly from the tea, bleeding into the air.</p><p>It’s warm today. Oh, the weather’s been nice enough since she arrived, three days previous, but today there isn’t a cloud in the sky. It’s perfectly blue. The heat hit her the moment she stepped outside, warming her skin as she headed for the now-familiar pagoda at the end of the lane.</p><p>The morning ritual was born long before Edge. Before Midgar even. Tea with the morning paper. She swirls her spoon through the amber brew and taps it on the side of the cup.</p><p>She ignores the idle chatter in the air. Background noise, setting the perfect tempo to clinking china and running water. She turns the page of her newspaper and scans through the headlines, lost in the words and pictures. She’s not paying attention, not really, still only half-awake, and maybe that’s why she doesn’t notice him watching her until it’s too late.</p><p>She glances up. Startled, she drops the teaspoon with a clatter.</p><p>He’s in his suit, so she assumes he’s on a job. It’s strange to see him without a partner. Reno turns up at the bar sometimes, drinks too much, and causes trouble. But Rude… he’s always so stoic, so polite.</p><p>She feels the flush creeping through her cheeks. He looks away, lifting his own cup to his lips.</p><p>It’s tiny in his hand.</p><p>Tifa turns the page. She doesn’t dare look up again, not until she hears his chair slide back. There’s a quiet conversation with the server. The girl flirts with him a little, laughing and patting his bicep as he settles his check. He smiles politely, tugging his arm from her grip. He doesn’t look in Tifa’s direction again.</p><p>He walks past her table, though. She watches him leave.</p>
<hr/><p>The next morning, he’s already there, sitting in the same seat, his empty cup balancing dangerously close to the edge of the table.</p><p>Papers scatter the space in front of him and he’s jotting notes in a pad. He’s in Wutai on work, then. She chooses a table a little closer this time and waits for the server to take her order. It’s pleasantly cool in the teahouse, the gentle fragrance of spice and tea wafting through the air.</p><p>She’s surprised he doesn’t notice her. His brow is furrowed behind his shades, his mouth drawn. Whatever he’s working on, he doesn’t look happy.</p><p>She opens her paper, smoothes it out over the table. The server brings her tea.</p><p>Tifa’s eyes drift of their own accord.</p><p>He writes so deliberately, pen scratching patiently across the notepad. Every so often he pauses, turns a page, makes a note on one of the documents sprawled in front of him. He doesn’t reach for the teacup, even when the server brings him another.</p><p>The girl tries to start a conversation, but he brushes her off. Turning her nose up, she flounces away. Tifa is secretly pleased.</p><p>She sips at her tea. It’s a floral blend, subtly sweet and heavy on the jasmine. Perfect temperature. Her seat is comfortable and there’s something oddly tranquil about watching him work.</p><p>Rude reaches for another piece of paper. Knocks the teacup off the table. It shatters on the floor. The sound is ridiculously loud, breaking through the hush.</p><p>It jolts Tifa out of her reverie. That’s when he notices her.</p><p>His mouth opens. Snaps shut. There’s a moment of stillness and she doesn’t dare draw a breath.</p><p>Then he ducks, scrabbling for the broken china on the floor.</p><p>The server has already stalked over, dustpan in hand. She clicks her tongue disapprovingly and nudges him aside with her hip. He drops a handful of fragments into the pan, looking as though he wants to ground to swallow him up.</p><p>Tifa turns her attention back to her paper, suppressing a smile.</p><p>She notices a piece of china beside her boot. The server is halfway across the tearoom now, so she stoops to pick it up. There’s a disjointed sliver of a pattern on it, a couple standing on a bridge.</p><p>It’s a well-known story. A tale of star-crossed lovers, worlds apart. She turns it over in her fingers.</p><p>Rude is gathering the papers together, preparing to leave. Maybe it’s the fragrance in the air, or the sunshine she’s been getting, or the ocean that separates her from the real world, but she feels brave.</p><p>She stands. Takes the couple of steps to his table. Places the piece of broken teacup next to his hand.</p><p>“Hey…”</p><p>He looks up. His expression is hard to read behind the shades that cloud his eyes. “Hello.”</p><p>The conversation stutters out.</p><p>She isn’t entirely sure what she’s doing. The words leave her lips before she thinks them through. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”</p><p>“Huh… Small world.”</p><p>“Yeah…”</p><p>Maybe he realises that conversation is a two-way street because he leans back in his chair. It creaks beneath his weight. “What brings you to Wutai?”</p><p>“Oh… you know…” He probably doesn’t. Was she really so bad at this? “Yuffie…”</p><p>He gestures at the empty chair opposite. “I remember her. Skinny. Annoying…”</p><p>She takes the seat, looking everywhere but her own expression reflected in his sunglasses. A deer in headlights. </p><p>“She takes some getting used to,” she carefully replies.</p><p>“Should introduce her to Reno. They’d get along like a house on fire.”</p><p>The corner of her mouth twitches. “You think they’d get along?”</p><p>He chuckles. The sound is rich, a low rumble. “No. I think there would be casualties.”</p><p>She laughs at that. Some tension drains from her shoulders, and she folds her arms on the table. “That sounds more likely.”</p><p>Rude nods. He’s smiling a little too.</p><p>“Are you here on work?” She cranes her neck a little to read the papers on the table. They look like witness statements. She thinks she spies the letters <em>‘oud Stri’</em> amongst the sheets near his elbow and wonders whether she should’ve seen it.</p><p>Perhaps not. He slides the paper out of view. Cloud isn’t a subject she’s keen to broach anyway, so she shrugs it off. Shinra hasn't caused her family trouble for a long time.</p><p>“Something like that,” he replies.</p><p>“How’s it going?”</p><p>“It’s going.”</p><p>There’s a ringing sound coming from his jacket. He smiles apologetically and checks his PHS. He frowns. “Sorry… I should take this.”</p><p>He pulls the papers into a pile and stands up, PHS clamped between his shoulder and ear. “Go ahead…”</p><p>Long strides carry him outside. He doesn’t return.</p><p>Tifa watches the door for a long while after he leaves.</p>
<hr/><p>On the third morning, he flips his notepad closed when she walks through the door. She smiles shyly and raises her hand in greeting.</p><p>When she sits down, she sees him fidgeting with his pen. He taps it on the closed pad, lost in thought.</p><p>For somebody so unreadable, she fancies he’s an open book today. She witnesses the argument playing out in his head. <em>Yes.</em> He shifts his weight as though he’s about to stand. Thinks better of it. <em>No…</em></p><p>He shakes his head. Reaches for the notepad again.</p><p>Maybe she’s read the situation dead wrong. She risks it anyway.</p><p>“Hello again.” She takes the seat opposite without waiting for an invitation.</p><p>There’s a moment of surprise, eyebrows raised behind his shades. “Good morning.”</p><p>“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.” She grins. Folds her arms on the table and leans forward a little. Her hair spills over her shoulders. “People will talk.”</p><p>The words feel silly the second she says them. A line from the cheesy movies she watches with Yuffie and Marlene.</p><p>Her attempt at backpedalling fails spectacularly. “Not that… I mean… there’s nothing to talk about, I just…”</p><p>He hesitates. Tilts his head slightly as though he’s really thinking it over. “Let them.”</p><p>She blushes at that.</p><p>A slow smile creeps over his face. He’s staring at his teacup, nudging it with his finger. It turns slowly. “It’s not like I come here every morning on purpose.”</p><p>There’s a lump in her throat. Maybe it’s her heart? It hammers uncomfortably and she can’t quite meet his eye.</p><p>“How are you finding Wutai?” he asks, and the atmosphere shifts.</p><p>Tifa lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “I like it. It’s a beautiful place.”</p><p>Rude nods. He’s stopped fidgeting with the teacup and the pen now, his attention solely on her.</p><p>“I’ve walked a lot… drank a lot of tea.” She smiles ruefully. “Probably eaten too much food.”</p><p>“The food here…” He makes a gesture, a chef’s kiss. His face lights up. “I’ve eaten twice as much as I should’ve.”</p><p>He’s sitting up a little straighter. She reads the signals. “You like food?”</p><p>“Show me a man who doesn’t.”</p><p>She fights the urge to roll her eyes. “Do you cook?”</p><p>“Whenever I can.”</p><p>“I love cooking.” It’s lucky really, given the number of dishes she serves at work. Cooking for a crowd has become something of a speciality.</p><p>It’s like he’s read her mind. “At the bar?”</p><p>Tifa nods. “And for the kids… simple stuff, really… There’s not much call for fine dining at home.”</p><p>“I like a challenge.” The way he says it, she’s not sure he’s talking about food. The words vibrate through her and her heartbeat quickens. There’s a definite pause before he follows up on the statement. “Maybe I spend too much money on ingredients… but there’s something about a finished dish that’s…”</p><p>“Satisfying,” she finished. “It gives you a sense of achievement, for sure.”</p><p>“Maybe I’ll stop by the bar… next time I’m in Edge.” He says it as though he isn’t usually, and she realises she doesn’t actually know where the Turks spend their time. They’re as mysterious now as they ever were.</p><p>“You should. Dinner on the house.”</p><p>“Maybe I’ll repay the favour.” He smirks. Looks down at his teacup again. “If you wanted.”</p><p>Suddenly, the tearoom feels uncomfortably warm. Her mouth is dry. “I’d like that.”</p><p>He nods. There’s a hint of satisfaction in his smile.</p>
<hr/><p>“The sunrise is really something,” he says.</p><p>This is the fourth morning in a row she’s bumped into him, and she’s thinking it’s not a coincidence. They’ve been chatting away for the last hour, half-full cups of lukewarm tea forgotten on the table in front of them.</p><p>Tifa doesn’t mind. She’s far more interested in the man in front of her.</p><p>He’s more relaxed, his broad frame carrying less tension than it did the first time she noticed him in the tearoom. He smiles more readily, cracks jokes. She laughs a lot, playing with her hair.</p><p>She thinks he notices. It’s hard to tell, but when she touches her face or leans a little closer, she swears he’s watching.</p><p>Tifa feels like a schoolgirl. She doesn’t care.</p><p>“I haven’t caught it yet,” she replies. “I never seem to be up early enough.”</p><p>The bed in her pagoda is luxuriously soft, and it’s a real battle to tear herself away. She does, every morning, primarily for the cup of tea and the paper. The ritual is important, whether or not she needs to get out of bed.</p><p>It’s not the rituals that have spurred her into getting up this morning. Not for the last two mornings now, if she’s being totally honest.</p><p>It’s the man in the dark suit that has her eager to rise.</p><p>“Tseng rings me every morning at five,” he replies.</p><p>Tifa winces. “That’s early.”</p><p>Rude shrugs. “Guess I’m used to it.”</p><p>“So you’ve seen a lot of the sunrise?”</p><p>“More than you.” He grins. “You won’t be disappointed.”</p><p>“I’m sure I won’t.”</p><p>“If you’re ever up before dawn, there’s a place…” He flips the notepad open, grabs a pen. “Just off the main path…”</p><p>Tifa watches him sketch out a rudimentary map. She thinks she already knows the location he’s talking about, recognising the twists and turns, but doesn’t say a word. He’s frowning over the top of his shades, concentrating on the task in hand. She waits for him to add the last flourish and tear the drawing off the pad.</p><p>He pushes it across the table. When she reaches for it, their fingers touch.</p><p>A moment passes before she breaks the contact. She drags the paper towards her, ignoring the flutter that blossoms from the whisper-soft caress. Rude sits back in his seat, watching her intently.</p><p>“I think…” Her mouth doesn’t want to work. She tries again. “I’ll head up there in the morning. If I’m up in time.”</p><p>He reaches up. Removes his shades. Polishes them on his tie. “Maybe I’ll see you up there.”</p><p>“Maybe.” She looks up. Her breath catches.</p><p>His eyes are deep and warm. They crinkle at the edges when he smiles uncertainly, and she realises she’s staring at him like he’s grown another head. </p><p>He raises his eyebrows. A silent question.</p><p>Heat blooms through her face and down her neck, and she reaches for her abandoned cup of tea. It’s cold in her hands, but she still takes a tiny sip, looking everywhere but the face in front of her. She wrinkles her nose the second the chill liquid hits her tongue.</p><p>Rude gently tugs the cup out of her hand. “I’ll get us another pot.”</p>
<hr/><p>Five a.m. comes and goes.</p><p>It’s still dark when Tifa steps off the beaten path. Without the sun to warm the air, it’s cooler, and even though she’s thrown on a sweater, she feels the chill. It’s peaceful out here though, not another soul in sight, so she wraps her arms around herself and carries on.</p><p>Twigs snap underfoot. She takes another path, and the ground slopes upwards. By the time she reaches the top, she’s feeling the strain. Her legs are like jelly.</p><p>She’s standing in a clearing of sorts, high on the hill. She wanders towards the edge where the rocks slant sharply away. The view makes her dizzy, the whole of Wutai sprawled out below her. As the first light breaks over the horizon, she watches the scene come to life.</p><p>It doesn’t take long for the sun to warm the sky. The colours blend out slowly, from inky darkness into a richer, warmer palette. Orange into yellow, yellow into azure blue. They highlight the gold accents on the sleeping pagodas and the shine on the emerald tiles. She watches it bloom and her heartbeat slows.</p><p>She feels small.</p><p>The measured footsteps echo her breath as Rude steps into the clearing behind her. It’s like a charge along her skin.</p><p>“It’s beautiful,” she murmurs, turning to face him.</p><p>“Sure is.”</p><p>He isn’t looking at the sunrise.</p><p>She should close the distance between them, but nerves glue her feet to the floor. She couldn’t move now, not for anything, her palms clammy and her eyes wide.</p><p>He watches her for a moment longer. His eyes reflect the warm light. He’s teetering, she realises, standing on the edge of the precipice they’ve slowly been heading towards.</p><p>She thinks of the broken teacup. Such an inconsequential thing. Star-crossed lovers and the chasm between them.</p><p>When he moves, it’s decisive. Controlled. His palm is warm against her cheek and he tilts her chin upward with calloused fingers. She shivers, and this time it isn’t from the chill.</p><p>Time stops. She can’t breathe.</p><p>When he kisses her, his mouth is firm. His fingers slide along her jaw and into her hair, and he pins her in place. It’s unnecessary. There’s nowhere else she wants to be. She kisses him back and for a moment all she can focus on his lips moving against her own.</p><p>An arm snakes around her waist, fingers splayed against the small of her back. She melts into him, hard lines against her smooth curves, and now there’s a fire in her belly that she can’t ignore. Her arms wind around his neck and then she’s on her tiptoes, pressing herself more firmly against him. There's an urgency now. A longing.</p><p>When he finally breaks away, they’re both panting. He presses another softer kiss against her lips and wraps his arms around her. She sighs, cheek to his chest, and listens to the steady beat of his heart.</p><p>The sun rises over Wutai. It’s a brand new day.</p>
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